Where you came from | m.yg

xiii

I wake up sometime around midnight to the sound of Yoongi's whimpers. Getting up from the laid out blanket on the floor, I crawl over to my bed. Yoongi's curled up into a fetal position, and is shivering under the thick blanket. I press my hand against Yoongi's forehead again. A couple hours ago it was burning hot, but now it's freezing cold.

Frowning, I bite my lip. "I wish that Yoongi would feel better, that he wouldn't be sick anymore." I whisper to myself, and watch as Yoongi's forehead slowly regains heat. My hand is warm and sweaty too now, but it's not because of the sudden change of temperature from Yoongi's forehead.

...

Around three in the afternoon is when Yoongi finally wakes up.

He yawns as he sits up in my bed. "How long did I sleep?" He asks, groggily.

I shrug. "Almost a day." I inform.

Despite the look of being half asleep, Yoongi's jaw drops. "So long?" "Why didn't you wake me up?" He complains.

I roll my eyes. "You don't just wake up a sleeping sick person, idiot." I rebuttal.

Yoongi nods. "Okay, you're right, thanks."

I curse under my breath. "Ungrateful little bastard."

"What?"

I scorn. "Never mind."

"Oh my god!" Yoongi suddenly exclaims.

"Keep it down!" I hiss. "What?"

"What about school?" Yoongi inquires, panic seeping into his voice. "Did we miss it?"

"It's Saturday." I answer. "We didn't miss anything."

Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. I got worried thinking that we missed lessons today."

"Even if it was, I wouldn't have cared." I tell him.

"But we would've missed so much! Your friends would've missed you!" Yoongi cries out.

I scoff at that part. "I don't have any friends."

Yoongi tilts his head in bewilderment. "What about Seung Hyun? Eun Ji? Jin Rin? Or Hyun Seung and Min Ho?" He questions.

I shake my head. "None of us are friends. We're all just losers that hang out together because we have no one else." Then I pause. "And Seung Hyun's a retard. I countlessly told him to fuck off, but he keeps hanging around me anyway. The fool's probably got no friends."

Yoongi frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why do you hate Seung Hyun so much?" He asks. "He's really nice to you."

"Nuisance more like." I mutter.

"He just wants to be your friend." Yoongi stubbornly insists.

Why is Yoongi standing up for Seung Hyun? "Ha! You'd be surprised." I retort.

"I really don't understand humans. Why are they so quick to judge and hate? What is it that fuels them to curse and bash at their friends?" Yoongi asks, scowling.

I sigh. "First of all, Seung Hyun and I are not friends. Second, all humans are like that. They're constantly hateful and full of spite, but the thing that humans despise the most is the feeling of being purposeless. When they do feel like that, humans take out their anger on others, believing that if they can deprive others of their worth, that it will make themselves better." I explain.

Yoongi nods, and taps his cheek thoughtfully. "And does it work?"

I laugh bitterly. "No. In the end the victim does end up feeling worthless, but so does the perpetrator as well." I stop, taking a breath. "At first putting another down may make someone feel good, but it's not permanent. At the end of the day, they realize that they're not all that special. They're just simply themselves." The last part comes out as a whisper.

"Have you ever felt that way?" Yoongi questions, his eyes wide. "Is that person in your answer you?"

I turn my head away. "I don't want to answer that." I respond, my voice suddenly clipped and tight.

Yoongi hangs his head shamefully. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, guiltily.

Using the tips of my fingers, I lift Yoongi's chin up. "It's not—"

Shocked at the physical touch, Yoongi flinches. He tries to cover it up by coughing, but unfortunately for him, I notice the light shaking and tensing of his body.

When I draw my hand away from Yoongi, he stops trembling. It's a subtle yet noticeable action, and I inwardly curse myself for his fear towards me. "Yoongi, I'm not going to hurt you." I tell him, pain evident in my voice.

Guilt pools in Yoongi's eyes. "Ji Yeon, I know." He says. "I was just a little surprised. I'm sorry."

I smile grimly. "I believe you, Yoongi." I tell him, not meaning a word of the sentence. It's all my fault that Yoongi's this way. If I hadn't let Yoongi get abused by Eun Ji and Hyun Seung—no—if I hadn't abused him myself, he wouldn't be like this. Scared, that is. He wouldn't be afraid of me. I resist the urge to touch Yoongi again, to lift his chin.

Instead, I fumble with my fingers in my pockets, twisting them, pulling them, trying to rip the skin off. Disgusting as it sounds, it's quite relaxing for me, and it's the only way to stop myself from hurting anyone else. In this case, Yoongi. "It's not your fault." I assure Yoongi.

Not having heard me, Yoongi looks confused. "Huh?"

"I said," I begin, my voice breathy, "it's not your fault." When I see Yoongi's slack jaw expression, I roll my eyes. "I don't know if it's just you, or if all angels really do believe the screwed up logic that you seem to go by, but news flash—not everything's your fault." I continue.

"But I—"

I cut Yoongi's sentence off with mine. "What I'm saying is, you're not responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world. So don't apologize for things that you don't do, nor things that you're not at fault for."

Yoongi nods slowly, looking like he's having difficulty processing what I've just said. "Mhm, alright." He agrees. "And you were wrong, Ji Yeon." Yoongi suddenly announces.

I raise my eyebrows at him, questioning his statement. "Excuse me?"

"You were wrong," Yoongi repeats confidently. "You're not friendless." Yoongi tells me.

I raise my eyebrows again. "What?"

"Because I'm your friend!" Yoongi explains, grinning from ear to ear.

I roll my eyes, but I'm clearly smiling. "You're such a dork." I say, trying to suppress the growing grin on my face.